Hello Darkness, My Old Friend...

Now we're cooking on gas. Welcome back, Greenwich Mean Time! Hello dark nights! Come in, winter chill!

Yeah, yeah, we ALL know this is my time. Summer lovers everywhere are shivering into their cardigans and dusting off their SAD lamps. I'm genuinely sorry you're feeling that way, and you KNOW this time will pass. I try to limit my joy when I'm with people who I know are struggling. No one wants to hear me banging on about the joys of something that causes them pain. But here, on my own blog, just between you and me, the wind, rain, and frost is giving me LIFE. 

Writing News

An ode to my intermittent creative energy, referred to here as Writing Flow...

Lovely Writing Flow, 

so elusive and coquettish. 

When I've all the time in the world, 

you literally appear to vanish.

But, lo, when I get busy,

with pressing matters elsewhere, 

you rock up bold as brass,

you act without a care.

My best laid plans get ditched, 

I'm at the mercy of your whim. 

I must write when you appear,

or the outcome is quite grim.

Writing Flow, what's going on?

Work with me, why don't you?

Can't you trickle steadily,

Instead of one big breakthrough?

Last week you were amazing!

Ever-present and rock-steady.

But knowing your flighty nature, 

you'll soon be gone already.

So thank you Flow, for dropping in,

I'll be finished sooner than later,

Because after your week of visiting,

it's time for the illustrator! 

In related news, I've been FLYING with edits this week. After a few decent days of lengthy laptop shifts, my schedule is back on track. I've contacted Gary who does the covers, and it's all coming together. I've even had time to write poetry. WTAF?

Culture

Keri Russell is Kate
Wyler, the Diplomat.

After writing my socks off for hours each day, I unwound with Netflix's The Diplomat. It's three series of political shenanigans; camper than The West Wing, but still pretty solid. I binged it each night until I was done. Then, in 'the best movie script ever written' news, I saw Back to the Future on the big screen, for its 40th anniversary. That film will never stop being brilliant. In book news, I'm working my way through Christopher Brookmyre's back catalogue. I'm currently in the middle of his first novel, Quite Ugly One Morning, and loving every deliciously described, grossly brutal, but ultimately humorous scene. For a first novel, it slaps. Finally, I gave into the buzz and listened to Lily Allen's new album, West End Girl. It's fab. Apart from the confessional, vulnerable nature of the thing, it's packed full of ear-wormy bops. I love it for her.

Dried fruit, waiting 
for the rest of the 
ingredients.

Food and Drink

I'm not trying to be the most annoying person in the world (honest) but it's the time of year when make a Christmas cake. No, I've not started watching my Christmas films yet and no, my fairy lights aren't routinely on each evening, but the last days of October are Christmas Cake time.

It's one of my favourite Christmas jobs. Because it's done long before the seasonal stress kicks in, I can wallow in the best smells as I potter about the kitchen. Orange zest, port, mixed spice, cocoa, cherries, and honey. The whole thing simmers on the stove, before being poured into a tin. And the best part? There's not a raisin, currant, or sultana in sight. I hate the things, so use cranberries, dates, and cherries instead. The original recipe is here, if you want it, but as you'll see, I've switched out the dried fruit for my preferred options.

Out and About

In hindsight, having a few quiet pints in Liverpool, on a Friday night that happened to be Halloween, might have been a mistake. It was chocka! What's more, there were people dressed up... who were adults! As my usual aesthetic is dark nails with a smoky eye, I blended in fine. Thank goodness I'm not about the pastels. It ended up being an excellent night. What was the best costume I saw? Why, thanks for asking! It was Zach Galifianakis from The Hangover, complete with a (photocopied) baby inserted into the carrying sling. 

Onwards. This week, Bommie Night will provide me with another of my favourite smells. Is it sulphur? Is that what's in the air when people have let off fireworks? Either way, that's the smell I love. A crisp, cold night, with that fireworky smell, and the whiff of fire lingering around. God, I LOVE it. Slow-cooked stew and treacle toffee, STAT.

Have a lovely week, folks.